Chusma

The natural order of things
It includes our existence
But let His Excellency know
May our patience
It also runs out

We have a message for beautiful people
And there are many more of us ugly people
So be careful, be very careful
Try not to make us angry

Mob, mob, we are mob
We are lumpen proletariat
Try to keep at bay
To such an unpresentable staff

Neither clean shooting nor dirty war will end our promiscuity
What are we disgusted by?
What are we ashamed of?
And we give something more than what else

We are not you
We are not even ourselves
It's just about being a pain
We've been away from home for a while now

Mob, mob, we are mob
We are lumpen proletariat
Try to keep at bay
To such an unpresentable staff

Each one is as God made him
And some of us are even worse
Our father was already a little strange
Our mother has already repudiated us
Amélica legion that agonizes in life
That has a future
It's called a mass grave
We are nobody and we are everyone
Our religion is called tururú

Mob, mob, we are mob
We are lumpen proletariat
Try to keep at bay
To such an unpresentable staff